


Films About Ghosts

by enigmaticblue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say memories make the man. Steve’s about to find out how true that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Films About Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the trope_bingo prompt, “telepathy/mindmeld”

_“If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts.”_ ~Adam Duritz

 

“Go! We’ll hold them off,” Thor shouts as he swings his hammer, knocking aside one of the henchmen. “Find the device!”

 

The Hulk roars his agreement, swinging his arm and brushing another black-suited figure out of the way, clearing a path for Steve to get into the abandoned office building, where Dr. Volker had been building his weapon.

 

SHIELD had sent the Avengers after Volker threatened to set it off, causing confusion and chaos—although he hadn’t been clear on what that meant exactly. Steve just knows they have to find and disarm the device—sooner, rather than later, especially since they haven’t found Volker yet, just a few dozen men wearing what looks like black haz-mat suits.

 

The original plan had been for Bruce and Tony to disarm the device, but then Bruce got hit by one of the henchmen, and that plan had gone out the window.

 

Steve takes the opening Thor and Hulk have created, running down the hallway of the abandoned office building. He’s grateful that they don’t have to worry about civilians getting in the way this time.  He skids to a halt when the hall opens up to a large, open room, with a huge metal cylinder in the center.

 

The cylinder has pipes and wires coming out of it, and Steve frowns. “Hey, guys, what is this weapon supposed to look like again?”

 

“Just like that,” Tony replies, coming up behind Steve. “I’ll see if I can disarm it.”

 

“Don’t,” Coulson orders sharply. “You might set it off.”

 

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Tony replies, but he doesn’t make another move towards the device. “Can somebody get Jolly Green? I could use Bruce’s help.”

 

Steve hears a grunt over the coms, and Natasha curses in Russian. “Get out of there! He’s triggered—”

 

Steve doesn’t hear the rest of that warning, because the machine emits a low whine, and then there’s a flash of light.

 

He feels like his head is going to explode, light bursting behind his eyes, and he thinks he hears someone screaming.

 

“Steve. _Steve_.”

 

He groans, not wanting to open his eyes.

 

“Steve! Come on.” Someone slaps him lightly on the cheek. “Open your eyes. I have to check on the others.”

 

The reminder of his duty causes Steve to open his eyes, and the little light there is feels as though it’s piercing his brain. He blinks rapidly, and Bruce’s worried expression comes into focus, a streak of dirt on one cheek, his pants in tatters, and Thor’s cloak thrown over his bare shoulders.

 

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.

 

Steve is suddenly struck with a memory—of Bruce naked, straddling his waist, head thrown back—and he can feel his face heat.

 

Bruce frowns. “You look overheated. Are you okay?”

 

Steve clears his throat and wonders where the hell that mental image had come from. “Yeah, just—a headache. What was that?”

 

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Bruce replies. “You and Tony seem to have gotten the worst of it. I’ve been trying to bring you around for five minutes.”

 

“Where’s Stark?” Steve asks.

 

“Just over there,” Bruce replies, unable to hide his worry. “He’s still breathing, and Jarvis says he’s okay.”

 

“Jarvis?” Steve asks as Bruce stands up and heads for Tony’s side.

 

Bruce kneels next to Tony and carefully pulls off his helmet. “I grabbed a com when I came back. Jarvis tapped in after Tony got knocked out.”

 

Steve is struck by another memory, this time of a middle-aged Howard Stark shouting angrily at him, and then being comforted by an older man with a British accent. He swallows the rising nausea and wonders if he’s going crazy; he’s remembering things that never happened.

 

“Hey, Tony, come on,” Bruce croons. “Wake up for me. Open your eyes.”

 

And Steve has a strange sense of déjà vu, remembering kneeling over Bruce, using almost exactly those words to try to bring Bruce around—but that had never happened. Tony generally insists on being the one to stay with Bruce after a transformation.

 

“Where are the others?” Steve asks, struggling to climb to his feet.

 

“Phil is with Clint and Natasha, and Thor is helping with cleanup.” Bruce pulls Thor’s cloak a little more firmly around his shoulders. “Thor wasn’t really fazed, and I’m not sure anything can take the Other Guy down, so I’m okay.”

 

Tony groans. “What the fuck was that?”

 

Bruce lets out a relieved laugh. “I don’t know, but it hit you and Steve pretty hard. Are you okay?”

 

“I don’t know,” Tony replies, sounding as shaky as Steve feels. “God, I feel like my brain’s been turned inside out.”

 

Steve glances over at Tony, who’s sitting up slowly, Bruce still hovering at his side. The sight of Bruce calls up another image of him naked and—

 

Steve looks away, staring determinedly at the ground, trying to quell the rising panic. He can’t figure out where these thoughts are coming from. He’s never thought of Bruce that way, and now—

 

His thoughts spin away, and another series of images assault him, things that had never happened—dinners eaten alone in a large, ornate dining room; working on a circuit board; a balding man in glasses bending over him in a dark cave, his chest strangely tight.

 

“Steve?”

 

He half-turns, unable to look Bruce in the eye. “Yeah?”

 

“What’s going on?” Bruce asks. “You look like you’re about to pass out again.”

 

Steve shakes his head, unable to find a response.

 

“Agent Coulson, I need some help in here,” Bruce says. “How are Agents Barton and Romanoff?”

 

The words echo back through Steve’s earpiece, and Coulson replies, “The machine seems to force some kind of mind link. Barton and Romanoff are recovering slowly, but we think the effects are temporary. At least the link is temporary.”

 

Steve swallows hard, and the pieces fall into place.

 

“A link?” Tony demands. “With—” Tony stops. “Oh, _fuck_. Seriously?”

 

Bruce gives him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, it seems to have formed a link between the two people closest together. Thor did say he was angrier than usual when he was fighting the henchmen.”

 

“What about you?” Tony asks. “Did you get Thor’s memories?”

 

“The Other Guy might have, but I didn’t,” Bruce replies. “Are you two okay?”

 

Tony grunts. “I have a headache, and I now know what it’s like to have a stick up my ass.”

 

“Steve?” Bruce prompts.

 

Steve looks at everything _other_ than the two of them, wishing that he _doesn’t_ remember what it’s like to have something up his ass.

 

There’s a long, pregnant pause.

 

“Steve?” Bruce prompts.

 

Steve glances at him and feels his face flush again, and he drops his eyes to Bruce’s bare feet.

 

“Oh,” Bruce says quietly. “I, uh, I’ll just check on the others. Tony? You coming?”

 

Steve glances up to see the smirk on Tony’s face. “Maybe later,” Tony says.

 

It takes Steve a second, and then he recognizes the double entendre, and he thinks his face might be permanently red.

 

“That’s enough, Tony,” Bruce says sternly. “Let’s go. I want to get you checked out by a real doctor. You too, Steve.”

 

“But you are a real doctor,” Tony teases, but he follows Bruce out.

 

Their absence gives Steve the time he needs to collect himself. He rubs his temples and takes a deep breath.

 

When he makes his way out, he finds SHIELD agents swarming the building, including a couple of medic vans. Clint and Natasha are sitting side by side in the back of one, both looking paler and more shaken than Steve has ever seen.

 

Bruce is standing next to the back of another ambulance, Thor’s cloak still around his shoulders. Tony is pouting, and probably flirting, and Steve feels a rush of feeling towards Bruce that’s not his own.

 

He deliberately walks over to where Clint and Natasha are sitting. “You guys okay?”

 

“Probably better than you,” Natasha replies with a wan smile. “You were with Tony, weren’t you?”

 

Steve shrugs. “Yeah.”

 

“Find out any dirt?” Clint jokes.

 

Some of Steve’s embarrassment must show, because they both start laughing at him, although not entirely unkindly. “Let me guess, you found out that Bruce and Tony are sleeping together,” Natasha says.

 

Steve frowns. “You knew?”

 

Natasha’s expression is sympathetic. “Steve, _everybody_ knows.”

 

“I didn’t!” Steve protests. “No one told me.”

 

Clint shrugs. “They’ve been trying to keep it under wraps, but it was fairly obvious.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve demands.

 

“Not our secret to tell,” Natasha replies, and her expression reminds Steve that she and Clint are in the business of keeping secrets from everyone. “What are you going to do about it now that you know?”

 

“Not look Bruce in the eye ever again?” Steve mutters.

 

Clint claps him on the shoulder. “Get checked out, Cap. This too shall pass.”

 

Steve isn’t sure whether he believes that.

 

~~~~~

 

The medics insist that Steve and the rest not be alone for at least 24 hours, and Bruce insists that they all come back to the Tower. He and Thor are none the worse for wear, and in fact, Thor pronounces the experience “most interesting,” and says that he’s never gone into a berserker’s rage before.

 

“I feel as though I understand the Hulk much better now,” Thor adds, slapping Bruce on the back so hard that he stumbles forward.

 

Natasha’s smile turns sly. “What about you, Steve? Do you feel as though you understand Tony better?”

 

Steve glares at her, rather than looking at Bruce or Tony. “It’s all a little jumbled. What about you two?”

 

Clint shrugs. “We knew a lot of it already.”

 

Steve wants to make a snide remark, but it’s starting to sink in that not only does he have Tony’s memories, but Tony has _his_.

 

He doesn’t like that idea any better, suddenly feeling completely exposed, raw, and uncertain.

 

“I’ll order some food,” Bruce offers when they get back to the Tower.

 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Tony announces abruptly.

 

Steve gratefully takes the chance to escape. “Same here.”

 

“I’ll have Thor check in on you in a little while,” Bruce says with an understanding look. “If you’re hungry, he can bring you dinner then, unless you decide you want to join us.”

 

Steve gives a jerky nod. “Thanks.”

 

He disappears as quickly as possible, stripping off his uniform and stepping into the shower. At least the Tower has far better water pressure than his Brooklyn apartment does. As the water pounds tight, sore muscles, he closes his eyes and is hit with another image—a naked chest, not his own, with a large metal socket in the center.

 

Steve opens his eyes with a gasp, running a hand over his own smooth chest.

 

He stares at the white tiles of the shower walls and wonders if Tony’s memories will eventually fade. The link may have only lasted a few seconds, but there’s no telling how long the effects will linger.

 

They all keep spare clothing in the Tower, something for which Steve is very grateful. He pulls on a pair of khakis and a white t-shirt, collapsing on the very comfortable bed, and wondering if a decent night’s sleep will allow him to forget.

 

There’s a knock on the door, and Steve opens it, finding Thor on the other side. “I brought your meal,” Thor says. “Or you could join us.”

 

“Think I’ll just stay here,” Steve replies. “But thanks for checking on me.”

 

Thor hands him the wrapped sandwich. “Perhaps you and Stark will take this opportunity to come to a better understanding of one another.”

 

Steve grimaces. “I doubt that.”

 

“Think on it,” Thor advises. “You have been granted a unique opportunity.”

 

Thor isn’t inclined to give advice often, and Steve isn’t sure he’s inclined to take it, but he nods anyway. “Thanks.”

 

Steve can only eat half his sandwich, and he throws the rest away, determined to sleep it off. He closes his eyes and feels the overwhelming loneliness of an empty house. He turns and tries to think about something else, his own memories.

 

He tries to remember Bucky’s face, but it’s fuzzy around the edges; it’s easier to remember the face of the man in the cave, as he urges him—no, urges _Tony_ —not to waste his life.

 

Steve finds it easier to remember the words of Tony’s favorite heavy metal song—“Iron Man,” of course—than it is to remember the tune of “As Time Goes By.” When he finally does fall asleep, he wakes up gasping from a nightmare of waking up in a dark cave with a car battery wired to his chest.

 

It’s times like these that Steve really wishes he could get drunk, or maybe find some other way to seek oblivion.

 

Finally, he throws back the covers and pulls on clothes and tennis shoes. He knows the Tower has a gym. If he can’t find a punching bag—or six—there’s bound to be a treadmill.

 

He’s nearly to the elevators when he hears a voice call, “Couldn’t sleep?”

 

Steve freezes and then turns slowly to see Tony sprawled on the couch, a glass in hand. “No. I thought I’d try working out.”

 

“Alcohol is my preference—but that’s right, you can’t get drunk.” Tony’s voice is mocking.

 

“Trust me, no one regrets that more than I do right now,” Steve snaps, his temper frayed.

 

He looks at Tony and feels a strange, unwelcome recognition, and he now knows that Tony can’t look at Steve without seeing his father—or rather the hole that Howard Stark’s absence had left.

 

And Steve can’t help but compare his memories of Howard to Tony’s, and knows he may never reconcile the two.

 

Almost in spite of himself, Steve drifts over to sit on the other end of the couch. He feels the sudden urge to say something to bridge the gap between them, but he has no idea where to start.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Bruce?” he blurts out.

 

Tony’s smile is sardonic. “I didn’t want to deal with your judgment.”

 

Steve feels a stab of hurt. “What? Why?”

 

“Because you don’t like me,” Tony replies sharply. “Because you wouldn’t approve of two guys fucking, because you wouldn’t want to risk riling up the Hulk. Take your pick, Cap.”

 

Shaking his head, Steve has another flash of memory, of Bruce’s mouth, of how Bruce’s hair feels. He thinks of the terrible loneliness he’d glimpsed and the novelty of the connection that Tony feels with Bruce.

 

“I don’t begrudge anybody happiness,” Steve manages after a moment. “And I have some idea how you feel about him.”

 

Tony makes a sound that might almost be laughter. “Yeah, I guess you would.”

 

“I don’t care,” Steve says, the words sounding hollow to his own ears. “I mean, it’s great, I just don’t like being the last to know.”

 

Tony nods, his lips twitching. “Fair enough. Sorry. It will probably happen again.”

 

It’s more than Steve ever thought he’d get out of Tony. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

 

Tony glances over at him, a smile curling his mouth. “Got any questions about what you saw?”

 

Steve thinks about asking Tony if Howard Stark had really turned out to be that much of an asshole, but he suspects Tony’s dad is a topic that will probably always be off-limits.

 

“Not really. You?”

 

“How about we agree that we never talk about this again?” Tony suggests.

 

Steve nods. “Fine with me.”

 

Tony looks off into the distance. “The past—it’s all just films about ghosts. The future is the only thing that matters.”

 

Steve looks out the windows at the lights of the city and thinks maybe there’s a way to move forward. “I think I’ll have that run now,” he says.

 

Tony doesn’t respond in words, merely raises a hand in farewell and takes another drink, and Steve doesn’t press him to break his self-imposed isolation.

 

And maybe that’s where they’re all alike, Steve thinks. They’re all lonely creatures, living with only their ghosts for company, except for the rare occasion they connect with each other.

 

It’s that thought that drives Steve to put a tentative, companionable hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”

 

Tony glances up at him, dark eyes startled and so like Howard’s that for a moment all Steve can see is his friend.

 

And then he’s Tony again, and his expression is softer, and more serious than Steve is used to seeing. “You, too,” he says. “Even super soldiers need to sleep, you know.”

 

Steve smiles and then breaks the connection. “Good night, Tony.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony replies, throwing back his drink and getting to his feet.

 

There’s an awkward silence, and then Tony shuffles off, and Steve takes a deep breath and thinks that it might be time to take Tony’s advice.

 

It might be time to lay his ghosts to rest.


End file.
